Pieces of Me
by Ashtari
Summary: Random Drabbles and short bits that I've written for contests or such. All characters likely. Rated for just in case.
1. Sunrise

**Hi all! I'm going to post the short drabbles I've written or entered into contests (of which voting is already over, yes yes I know) I just want somewhere to put these for posterity!**

**-Ash**

* * *

**Drabble contest submission**

**Theme: Sunrise**

She was fascinated by his hands. Not more than his ears, of course, but it was a close thing.

They were, like him, mutable. Like the seasons, like the elements—he was changeable, following the patterns of the moon…and the sun. Everything about him, from the top of his silver head to his calloused and bare feet, was natural. Perhaps that was why she never had trouble accepting him as he was. How do you deny the natural order?

Awake, as always before the sun started to peek over the horizon, she watched his hands. As the first rays of filtered sunlight scattered across the land, he flexed his fingers slowly as the nails lengthened. Tawny eyes closed he sighed, finally at ease after the long night, and dropped his tired hands from the sword.

She gave him a tentative, exhausted smile, reaching out to grasp his hand and give it a quick squeeze. It took a moment, but slowly his strong hands curled around her own, gently returning the pressure, mindful of his claws. She smiled again, content.

Weapons, tools, touch, youkai, hanyou, or human—his hands were like him; strong and gentle, callous and careful…sunrise and sunset.


	2. Phobia

**Drabble contest submission – Third Place Winner**

* * *

**Theme: Phobia**

**Ballistaphobia: The fear of missiles or bullets (and yes, arrows are considered missiles)**

* * *

That_ sound._

_--Twang—_

The sound haunted her dreams, permeated her nightmares and threatened every waking day to send her over the edge, over the brink into madness. As if she hadn't suffered enough, to be left with _this – _this daily reminder, the constant nagging breath of fear that sent tremors through her limbs and chills over the scars she still bore.

_--Thunk—_

She could still feel them, the echoes of the aftermath. Every skirmish opened up another battlefield within her, a fight not with the demons arrayed before her, but with her own instincts not to fall, not to scream and claw the things from her back…not to imagine them there, not to feel the slow, wet trickle of her own blood as it seeped from their buried heads.

_--Twang—_

Worse yet, the knowing. Her friends. Their fight. The sound was _necessary_.

_--Thunk—_

Perhaps she fought for vengeance. Perhaps she fought for retribution.

_--Twang—_

Perhaps she simply fought to keep Kagome from firing those damned arrows at her back.

_--Thunk--_


	3. Fireworks

**For: Contest**

**Theme: Fireworks**

* * *

She used to enjoy fireworks displays.

Truly.

She glanced around her at the gathering crowd, eager faces and laughter signaling their enjoyment, their expectation. And before the first explosion, she found herself almost caught up in their excitement—almost.

But as the first colorful blossom filled the night sky with light, she remembered—and silently turned her back on the display.

Instead, she fixed her attention on the crowd, trying to remember how it felt, how beautiful she once thought a sky filled with fireworks had seemed. She tried to remember how it felt to see a sky blooming with color and not feel the guilt, the terrible anger. She tried not to count the number of lives ruined by a lavender fountain of color so much like those roaring to life above her.

And though the shadow of that light-filled reflection could still be seen in their eyes, she took comfort in the awe with which her fellow watchers viewed the display. Even if she couldn't see the beauty, she could still find the briefest ray of hope in their upturned faces—their expressions of wonder. There was beauty in hope shared.

And she needed hope.


	4. Myths and Legends

**Wrote this at the last minute for the Myths/Legends theme for a drabble contest. It wouldn't have transferred well to the livejournal format, and I wasn't sure it was that good anyway, so I am just posting it here. It didn't even go where I wanted it too, sort of took on a life of its own. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**-Ash**

* * *

Where were the prophets in this tale? The doomsayers who intone dire warnings of failure, the oracles who spout forecasts of an adventurer's fate?

She sighed, _again_, as Inuyasha took off after Shippou, goaded by the kit's teasing. She rolled her eyes, _again_, when Sango's hand made sharp contact with Miroku's cheek.

Were these the people of which legends were made? Odd.

_I wonder what sort of mangled prophecy we are fulfilling?_

Beware the spider that lurks in the dark, Her heart seethed…_Naraku_

'Ware the bandit who knows not his heart._ Stupid, evil Onigumo…_

Beware the priestess who has taken the fall,She sighed evenly. _Kikyou.._

'Ware the demon who reigns over death._ Sesshomaru?_

_Wait, who are we warning?_ She added her own prophecy to their enemies;

Beware the dog, the man, the fang, She giggled. _Inuyasha and Tessaiga._

'Ware the cursed hand of the monk._Miroku!_

Beware the trickster, the fox and the fire,_ Shippou._

'Ware the slayer, the sister, the strength. _Dear Sango_. She smiled.

_And me? Where do I fit?_

Kilala bumped her feline head against Kagome's leg and looked up at her, mewing softly.

_Silly girl. Beware the priestess, the heart of the pack…_


	5. Pack

**Written for drabble contest: Second Place Tie**

**Theme: Pack**

* * *

Kagome glanced about nervously, peeking over the top of the open book propped up on her knees. Whispering a fervent prayer, she spared one more nervous glance around before turning again to the text. _Thank you, Mama…_

"**You, not your dog, should be the leader of the pack if he is to develop into a well-mannered family member."**

She snorted and peered up into the trees forming the canopy over their campsite, searching for her subject. _Well-mannered…HAH._

"**Being pack leader does not mean being big and aggressive."** _Well, thank goodness for that-and has anyone told HIM? **"**_**Anyone can be the pack leader. It is an attitude, an air of authority." **

_So it should be easy, then. Just a matter of having the right attitude—_"**So how to become the pack leader? In nature, adults grab pups around the head or neck and gently, but firmly, pin them to the ground."**

_Damn._ She pursed her lips thoughtfully, pushing a strand of hair from her face. _Maybe if I ambushed him…_ Plans were formed and just as quickly discarded.

"Try it, wench, and I'll throttle you."

Wincing, she tilted her head up at the annoyed hanyou and grinned sheepishly--thoroughly busted.


	6. Birthday

**My first first-place winner! Yay!**

**Theme: Birthday**

**Hope you enjoy! -Ash**

* * *

"Happy birthday, Miroku!" Sango handed a slip of paper to the startled monk, beaming.

"What's this?" Miroku fingered the paper in his hand gingerly, as if expecting a spell or seal at any moment to erupt around him.

"It was Kagome's idea." Sango blushed prettily. She had wanted to give Miroku something different, and Kagome had suggested an idea from her time. "It's a _coo-pon_, she says, for anything that you want—we can get you a bottle of sake or...anything!"

The corner of his mouth twitched and her excitement faded. She knew that look.

She narrowed her eyes as he handed the paper back to her. "I think I'll use it now."

"Oh? And what is your birthday wish?"

He smiled, slow and languorous. "A kiss."

She sputtered, her mouth moving but not forming coherent words as she shook her head, backing away. Before she could escape, he was beside her.

"A kiss, Sango. It's not so much." He caught her hand before she could flee and pulled her to him. Soft lips touched her burning cheek, strong arms then released her.

As he picked up his staff and walked away humming, only one thought crossed her mind.

_That's………it?_


	7. Masterpiece of Shadows

**I wrote this after one of the latest Manga chapters….wondering "OMG What if Kouga dies!" …consider this the product of panic and too much time in the jewelry industry. :P**

**Darkish, I suppose, with character death and obscurity on the side.**

**Enjoy!**

**Ash**

* * *

Bright blue eyes; mid-day skies framed by dark lashes in a suntanned and expressive face, like a jeweler's dark and triumphant creation—stilled now, quiescent, blank. Closed forever as she smoothed a trembling hand from brow to chin.

He was gone. His body claimed by death, his soul shipped off to the unknown.

Bowing her head she whispered mindless prayers to gods old and new, holding onto the hope that a demon's soul could be reborn. So full of spirit, surely he would enjoy another chance at life—he who had lived so….intensely.

Tears slipped from her eyes, tracing mournful lines down her face, only to fall soundlessly to the ground, unheeded.

"Will you shed tears for me when it is my time, Kagome?" Gentle claws stopped a tear in mid-flow, wiping it away before it could complete its path. Turning, her eyes met another jeweler's masterpiece; deep topaz, burnished gold, a crowning diamond glory.

"No, Inuyasha. I won't cry when it's your time." Gathering herself, she rose, turning her back on them both.

"I pray I'll be long gone before then."


	8. The Age of Legends

**Drabble contest submission**

**Theme: Age**

"_Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again."_

_-Robert Jordan_

_-------------------------------------------------------------_

What is in an Age? Times of peace, prosperity, conflict, resolution—turning and turning until the time is once more where it began. Traced like the threads on a spider's crystalline web, one returns again and again to those things that make life painful; death, destruction, war, famine, oppression…being pinned to a tree for fifty years.

He laughed softly to himself.

Across the fire, he watched Kagome as she continued her story to an enraptured Shippou. Even Miroku and Sango were intent on such a silly story, a childish tale. _Remarkable_.

He knew that in her Age, their names were forgotten, their quest relegated to nothing more than a fantastical myth, a legend. _The Hanyou and the Miko,_ a half-demon and a priestess. The Shikon no Tama was sold as a cheap bauble, a replica of the powerful stone they still sought. Miroku and Sango, Shippou and Kilala, even that stupid scrawny wolf—all forgotten, names and deeds invisible in the annals of time.

Would she bring them back when all this was said and done, their resident storyteller? If they survived this, would she return to her time and renew the stories, refresh the legends, give their friends again the honor they deserved for their sacrifice?

Knowing Kagome, she would. The world would know of their deeds, and the ending of their tale that had yet to be written.

He hoped it would be a good ending. For all of them, but especially for her.


	9. Rain

**Drabble contest submission**

**Theme: Rain**

**Place: Tied for first with Alterfano**

**Woot:D**

**---------------------------------------------------**

"It smells like wet dog in here."

Two pairs of eyes turned the glares they were trading on _him_, mayhem and malice promised in each.

"What? It _does._"

"Please. Don't mix me in with _him_." Kouga's eyes narrowed in disgust.

Inuyasha snorted. "No, of course not. _You_ have a stench all your own."

"Both of you stop it," Kagome reprimanded. Glaring at Miroku, she rummaged around in her bag. "The cave's bad enough, but don't make it worse by fighting."

"Isn't there _something_ you can do about this….smell?"

Kagome leveled a look at him. "Really, Miroku. What do you expect me to do?"

"Isn't there shampoo…or…something," he pleaded.

Finally she pulled out a bottle of some sort. She considered it briefly before handing it over. "This is all I have—Gramps gave it to me right before I left."

Shrugging, he pulled off the stopper, inhaling. The scent was so strong he jumped, spilling half the bottle down his robes. _It's foul!_

Kagome was covering her nose just as both Inuyasha and Koga slumped to the ground, unconscious.

---------------------------------

Seated stiffly outside the cave in the rain, he thought perhaps next time he would keep his damned mouth shut.


	10. Bullshit

**Crack-drabble inspired by a comment by Manonlechat on my LJ. "Bull-crap."**

**Enjoy!**

**-Ash**

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

"You must be fucking kidding." Golden eyes narrowed, thin slits of indignant rage and barely suppressed disgust.

Totosai's gleeful giggle echoed through the acrid cavern, his child-like eyes gleaming with mirth. "Not at all, my boy!" He clapped a hand on the hanyou's stiff shoulder and gestured expansively towards the innermost sanctum of the cave. "Did you know? Cows have six stomachs." The old swordmaster nodded his balding head sagely, as if that explained everything in crystalline clarity.

Inuyasha eyed the contents of the cave and glared. "How fucking long have you had that damned…thing?"

Totosai's oversized eyes blanked, intent on thoughts that had long ago escaped him. "Wha? Oh, only a few days." He waved a hand, dismissing the fact as irrelevant.

Inuyasha glanced uncertainly from Totosai to the cave and back again and sighed heavily, drawing the old man's attention once again.

"If I do this, you'll fix Tetsusaiga, right? You won't forget, old man?"

"Of course not. I don't forget things, pup." His pride wounded, the old man wandered away, muttering to himself.

Muttering of a more irritated sort came from the hanyou, who was rolling up his sleeves and inspecting the small wooden shovel that Totosai had provided. "Oh, no. Not at all. Stupid of me, really. Of _course_ you never forget anything. Fuck."

Looking around again, he winced, briefly considering his bare feet and the muck that was thick on the cavern floor. And the walls. And the _furniture_.

"Who the hell could forget a few hundred years of bull-shit?"


	11. Thoughts on Leaving

**A response to my request for inspiration from Fenikkusuken, who requested a look into Koga's thoughts as he left Kagome—and the group—in the latest manga chapters. This is sort of how I saw it. It's longish, for a drabble, but I thought it wouldn't do the wolf-boy justice if I cut it down.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Ash**

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

It was better this way.

He had watched her since the undead miko's loss, lurking at the edges of wherever mutt-face moped. He had watched her eyes as they filled with pity and sadness—and a hopeful longing that tore at his heart and more than ever made him want to rip that stupid hanyou's throat out. Whether she knew it or not, a part of her rejoiced in her rival's demise, and even through the haze of mournful tears she couldn't keep the tiny flares of hope from her eyes.

He doubted anyone had watched her intently enough to notice—anyone but him. Those tiny flares had made up his mind, firming his resolve to leave. He was still strong enough without the Shikon fragments in his legs—his excuses about burdens were half-hearted at best. But he couldn't bear to see the hope rekindled in her eyes when it was mingled with the pain and shame of the miko's death and Inuyasha's guilt. When he began to doubt his reasoning, it took only a glance into her expressive face and he was returned to his senses. And so he took his leave.

The "talk" with Inuyasha had gone as well as he'd expected—the mutt was useless. In his heart he desperately hoped that the idiot would come to his senses, if only to make Kagome happy. He could be content with that, her happiness—even at the expense of his own. It seemed fitting.

When she wrapped her arms around him in farewell, he was nearly undone. The smell of her hair and the feel of her head tucked neatly beneath his chin was almost too much to bear, and it took every ounce of his strength not to sweep her up and carry her away with him. Instead, he made himself put distance between them, took one last, grateful breath of her scent before turning away. He couldn't resist the last jibe at dog-shit, reminding her that he would always be there when Inuyasha failed her. His pride demanded it, as did his heart.

In a swirl of youki and road dust he left, exhibiting the speed that had made him clan-leader in the first place. The clan, and home—he needed them now. Perhaps her adoptive "sisters" and "brothers" could fill the gaping chasm that her absence had left in him.

But even then he thought that as fast as he was, he could ever outrun the heartache of leaving her.


	12. Reincarnation and Retribution

**Drabble contest submission I actually did a while ago, but I forgot to post.**

**Theme: Reincarnation**

**Enjoy!**

**-Ash**

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Myouga never stood a chance.

Always a little weak, always a little cowardly, when death had come, he'd met it running…away. But somehow, _somehow_ the universe had smiled upon his good deeds and after a time he was reincarnated.

A second chance! A spine! The joy!

However, after the shiny wore off of the new human body and old age had set in, he found that not only did the memories of his past life—its pains, its fears, its all-encompassing cowardice, its thirst for blood—remain, but so, too, existed his nemesis…and his joy!

He waited, excited and fearful, for the day when they would meet again.

Would he remember? Would he be recognized? …Could he pull it off?

At last, the wondrous day arrived and his rheumatic legs danced a little jig that had his daughter scrambling for his pills. He didn't care. Retribution was at hand!

He sat, agitated, all through dinner, and finally caught a glimpse of silver-gilt hair and near laughed aloud. He was here! Pulling the slips of paper from a concealed pocket, he readied himself as the shoji door slid open, revealing his granddaughter and her newfound hanyou protector.

"AH-HAH!"

With all the vigor of his eighty-two years, he jumped up from his seat at the table and slapped the ofuda—hard—against the startled hanyou's forehead before skittering away, giggling madly.

_Take THAT, dog-boy. _

Come to think of it, Grandpa never really stood a chance, either.


	13. Too Much Cloud

**Long time, no see, huh? Sorry 'bout that--Real life snuck up and bit me in the ankles. ;) BAD LIFE. No biscuit.**

**Anywho...I actually wrote something today...it's kind of depressing and alot mournful, but it might be worth the read. I intended it for iyissekiwa's _Fog_ challenge, but I didn't get it done in time, so eh. :)  
**

**Enjoy!**

**-Ash**

* * *

_Too much cloud and not enough sun_, she thought, searching the skies above her. The sun was yellow, wasn't it? A bright, glaring, soulful shade of vitality that it hurt to recall, much like the brilliant, bonding shades of crimson or the lambent glow of snowy nothingness. For a time, she'd wished to fall into darkness, away from the colors that blinded her with tears. It seemed the skies had heard her plea.

Clouds filled the gloomy sky, shading the earth in somber tones and hues of mourning, hiding the brilliance of the sun like a jealous lover. The world around her, however, fell not to grief, but allowed the clouds their passage through the skies knowing that the sun would follow--had always followed--the windblown clouds.

A bitter sound escaped her throat, tasting of irony and bile. The world knew, the world moved on, and yet she would not.

She could remember color, but couldn't see it—just as she could remember warmth but couldn't feel it, could remember joy, but could never feel its glow upon her soul. Her entire existence had turned to grays; the not-quite-there shades of nothingness. She wondered if her soul had turned black—the color of shadow, the absence of light….

…The absence of love.


	14. A Looking Glass Darkly

**Another drabble I did for iyissekiwa's _Mirror_ challenge. It didn't place, but that's ok :) **

**A little InuMama angst for you. Enjoy!**

**-Ash**

* * *

She lay the inlaid looking glass facedown, unable to come to terms with the woman who stared back at her. A gift from her father during better times, she had held onto the mirror as the last remnant of her formerly happy life, after selling most of her meager collection of beautiful things. Now it was her sole possession in this new life, this new existence she had forged for herself.

Who knows what people thought when they looked at her? Any number of descriptions could be used; the exiled princess, the woman in disgrace, the outcast…the whore. Each as true as the next, each with its own set of consequences and repercussions—but they meant nothing. Human or demon, it didn't matter what they thought-it had taken quite a while for her to realize that. A woman raised to serve as an ornament, to give the world the face they desired didn't understand at first how other's opinions could be cast aside. Image _mattered_. That's what her father had said.

But now she could see how ridiculous that was. Image didn't matter. People don't matter, demons don't matter. How she looked didn't matter when her son was hungry.

How her son looked didn't matter. It didn't-it _shouldn't_. He was a child, innocent of her crimes, of his father's lust.

Shaking her head, she picked up the mirror and hurled it across the dirty little hut she was occupying, grimly satisfied with the tinkling sound of broken, precious glass.


	15. The Look of Love

**At 854 words, this is a long drabble--again for the iyissekiwa Special Challenge--and there was no word limit. I didn't think it was quite long enough to count as a one-shot, not having an actual PLOT, so I left it here with the drabbles. **

**A rather simple look at young Rin/Sess...from his perspective. I thought perhaps he might wonder at that way that children have of falling in love with things and people wholeheartedly--and the odd way they get you under their spell when they do. :) **

**Enjoy!**

**-Ash**

* * *

There was love there. 

It had not escaped him, that look in her eyes. He indulged himself in a moment of truth—he was not blind to it. Simply because emotions did not dictate his actions did not mean that he could not recognize the differences when he saw them. He had seen her eyes cycle through fear, kindness, panic, surprise, adoration, sadness, happiness…

…Love.

The feeling may not be reciprocated, but neither was it denied. Simply….acknowledged.

It was a child's love, he knew. Bright and innocent, she shined like the sun when her smiles touched her eyes, her face alight with love. He tried to remember—perhaps he had loved like that once. But like all things childish, he surely had outgrown the emotion, finding comfort in simple honor as he had aged. For the life of a demon, it was, perhaps, a natural progression. For a human, though, she had not yet outgrown falling in love with things…with people…with demons.

He noticed when Ah-Un was the first to fall victim to her. Faced with the formidable taiyoukai and his ever-protesting vassal, she had turned to the dragon for something to love. Soon she was petting the animal, cooing at it and wreathing one head or the other with garlands of the flowers she collected, like a pet. Never mind that her "pet" could immolate her where she stood, she whispered soft adorations to the animal nonetheless. She spoke to them, mindless human drivel about her feelings and fears and worries as she tenderly stroked their muzzles with her tiny fingers. Innocent, childish things, pointing out flowers or butterflies or dragonflies—she especially like pointing out dragonflies to the beast.._'How does Ah-Un fly without wings? But aren't the little wings quite pretty?'_ On one occasion, she even wished to have her own set of silvery wings.

Absurd.

Human.

In return for her quiet, heartfelt murmurings, the dragon protected his ward unfailingly—for which he was silently thankful. It was an awkward situation he had placed himself in, and hadn't yet to come to terms with dealing with a human on a daily basis. The dragon took part of the burden of protection away from him—perhaps the child's inane words had some use, after all.

However, a part of him was slightly jealous that the dragon had been her first, when he had been the one to save her life.

Next had come poor, burdened Jaken. The little toad was as lost as he was in how to deal with the child, who seemed to think him just another playmate rather than the fearsome youkai that should have struck her heart with fear.

Had he not been occupied with more pressing matters, he might have found the little youkai's position amusing. His mother certainly would—when she remembered the imp's name.

Rin loved Jaken as he had seen human children love their siblings—certainly not the feelings he shared for his only brother—but as items to play with for amusement unless one's guardian was watching, in which case a tentative respect was given until said guardian's back was turned. She laughed at him and mocked him, sang to him and bedecked the poor fellow with the same garlands of flowers and showers of petals that she'd plagued the dragon with—quite undignified for a demon of Jaken's age and reknown. The pure shock and outrage on the little demon's face seemed to set her off into even more gales of giggles, which at first had made his head ache. But she was happy, and for all that he was unconcerned with human emotions, he was satisfied that she was not in torment, or fear. Since she had never shown true fear of him, he was resolutely determined that she should never show fear of lesser beings. He was proud, most times, that she had learned his lessons so well.

Once stabilized with her two newfound loves at her back, she turned to him, as always, without fear.

It was that look that sent razor-sharp panic through him, in truth—he, who had never known fear.

Had she never formulated that wide-eyed expression of devotion, he might have left her, might have had Jaken leave her at the nearest human village and never think of her again. He still could not understand why he did not.

She was a weakness. He had been told, again and again by various and sundry lesser demons, Jaken, and Naraku more than once. Even the part of his own subconscious that was concerned with such things emitted a protest or two, which he did not heed.

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She was his ward, his responsibility. He had given her life in that dark forest path with Tensaiga and, like a father should—as his own father had—he protected her, taught her the lessons that he was sure she would need to know.

He was proud that she learned his lessons so well.

She had never shown fear—to hell and beyond, she had never lost that look of love.

…His mother was right. He was still a fool.


	16. Circles

Drabble contest submission – Inevitable theme

2nd Place

* * *

It was bound to happen.

Destiny would not have introduced him into her life if the outcome of their quest had been anything but concrete. It would have taken a force larger than all of them to redirect the ending to their fairy-tale, the scene played out in horror before them.

He held to him now a once-strong woman, broken and heartsore, tears running unchecked down her stained and smudged face. Eyes once full of life stared blankly at him, hollow and near-wild with grief. At his feet lay the once-rival, the once-hero...her once-love. She trembled and buried her face in the planes of his chest.

"Why did this….it wasn't supposed to be…." She sobbed, shaking her head in useless denial. He held her closer, shushing her with muted whispers and inarticulate croons.

"It was his destiny, Kagome. He lived, he fought, and died in victory. The mutt would have wanted to go like this."

She nodded numbly. "He always protected me…."

He pulled her silently away from the battlefield that was slowly gathering gloom in the blooded sunset.

_And that protection lives on…in me, as it was meant to._


	17. Ghosts

Written for the Iyissekiwa Community on Livejournal - Posted February 12, 2010.

Word Count: 185  
Note: After the end of the manga, while Kagome is living happily with Inuyasha in the past....

* * *

During her laundry rounds, she found herself there, purely by force of habit. The Room.

Her eyes swept the riotous pink sanctuary, lighting on all the personal effects, the reminders of her loss. The books still lay on the desk, the mangled alarm clock on the bedside table. Beside the bed, where she eventually knelt, shoes still lay neatly, side by side. Picking up a loafer, her fingers reverently traced the rough leather; the slash marks, the stains, the worn synthetic sole. In the end, her daughter had came back somewhat like her loafers – worn...broken, a little rough around the edges.

And now she'd been gone a full year....Kagome.

Mrs. Higurashi leaned her forehead against the bed and didn't bother trying to stop the tears that leaked onto the coverlet. She still had her beloved son and her father-in-law, but she missed her shining, darling daughter.

A now-strong hand gently squeezed her shoulder, and she looked up into her son's concerned face. _I'm surrounded by ghosts...He looks so like his father...._

"Mama? Don't cry....I think I've found someone to help us look for Kagome."


	18. Edge of Desire

Writted for Inuyasha_et_al Community on Livejournal, Posted March 4, 2010 - Denial Theme

One shot only, kids. :) And yes, I'm getting back into writing again.

Songfic based on John Mayer's "Edge of Desire" on his latest Battle Studies album. 3

_**

* * *

**__**Young and full of running  
Tell me where's that taken me  
Just a great figure eight of a tiny infinity**_

It had taken time for word to reach the demon settlement of the Tribe; time for the news to sink in and time for relief to become a tangible feeling in the air – a bubble-light joy that ran as an undercurrent to the long-term plans and the day-to-day trivia of living. Naraku was dead, the Shikon Jewel gone from the world……along with the miko who had shattered it.

Alone, he looked out over the settlement from his perch on the high plateau, eyes narrowed against the setting sun. The watercolor sky was beautiful, clear for once of the ominous presence of miasma clouds or mocking laughter, and he allowed himself to breathe deeply of the pure winds.

Unconsciously, he rubbed his palms against his scarred shins, the rough skin puckered where shards of the shattered Shikon Jewel had once been embedded. While the rest of his tribe rejoiced, the knowledge of Naraku's defeat was for him bittersweet. For all of his running, all of his battles, the scars, the lost comrades, he hadn't been the one to put the screws to that bastard. To be honest, it rankled a bit that his was not the hand that had ended that murdering hanyou's life.

More than that, it was a scar on his soul that he had not been able to save Kagome. By all reports she was gone from this world – no trace, no scent, as if she had been a figment of their imaginations.

But he remembered.

He lowered his head and keened, giving vent to the grief and guilt that consumed him.

* * *

_**Love is really nothing but a dream that keeps waking me  
For all of my trying, still end up dying  
How can it be**_

Startled, panting, and shaking, he woke from the myriad world of dreams. Images of Kagome still speared through his mind, and though he couldn't remember what woke him, he could still almost hear her screams. Scrubbing his eyes with his palms, he glanced around the cave at the sleeping forms of his comrades; still, safe, and happy, they slept on, thanks to Kagome. _Well, and dog-shit too, I guess. If I wanted to be charitable._

I don't.

He sighed, and stood, stretching his leaden legs. The rumors had reached him that the inu-hanyou had been spotted, living in that village where he and Kagome had made their camp of sorts. The taijiya and the monk were there too, resting and recovering. Of course, his tribe spoke in hushed tones of their sister, the miko who was missing, even as they kept quiet around their leader, sensing his pain.

A growl escaped his lips. _If anyone knows what happened to Kagome, it's dog-shit. Surely he can tell me what happened. Maybe he can tell me where she is. Maybe he knows if she's really….gone. Maybe then I can kill him and not feel guilty._

A part of him still whispered in the recesses of his mind…_She's not gone…she can't be._

* * *

_**So young and full of running, all the way to the edge of desire  
Steady my breathing, silently screaming  
I have to have you now**_

Standing at the outskirts of the village, he watched as life passed before his eyes. Humans were so perfectly fragile, so incredibly short-lived. Every second of the day that they spent in sleep, in play, in laughter and tears – they could never recover. Since meeting Kagome, he was constantly amazed at their tenacity.

The breeze shifted, and though he heard nothing, he felt a presence at his shoulder, and caught a whiff of the hanyou's scent. _Dog-shit._

"Hey, Mutt."

"Hey, Kouga." Startled at the use of his actual name, he glanced at the hanyou, who raised a pale eyebrow and smirked. "What? I figured you'd be one of the first to come."

Kouga turned his attention back to the village, where a group of children, and the little kitsune, had been turned out of doors to play. "I don't know if I like being that predictable…Inuyasha."

Inuyasha snorted and shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I knew you would come."

"If you know so much, then you know _why_ I've come?"

Inuyasha sighed and for a time the pair stood in silence as they watched the children play. Finally, he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "You want to know about Kagome."

His hands drew up into fists and he kept a tight leash on his temper. "Yes. The rumors are…disturbing."

Inuyasha looked down at the wolf-demon's clenched fists and working jaw, and incredibly, the edges of his mouth turned up in what could almost be called a smile. "Disturbing? Well, listen to you. Don't beat it around, Kouga, you came here to beat the shit out of me for not protecting her."

Kouga snarled and his youki flared, the harsh sound booming through the clearing and turning the heads of the children in the field. The kitsune barked three words and the children all took off at a dead run back into the village proper. He squared off in front of the unperturbed hanyou, baring his teeth.

Inuyasha sighed again.

"Now look. You scared the kids and now the monk and taijiya will be out here to investigate. Good job, shithead."

_Oh, now we're back on solid ground. This has all been too civilized._

"Tell me what the fuck happened, dog-breath, or I swear I'll tear you apart. The only thing keeping me from your throat right now is that you haven't yet said that Kagome is dead. "

"That's because she's not."

Kouga stopped circling, startled into immobility. He spun towards the village again, mind and senses intent on finding the woman, when Inuyasha stopped him, grabbing his arm and yanking him back.

"She's not in the village either, idiot."

Kouga threw off Inuyasha's restraining arm and glared. "Then where the fuck is she, mutt? Quit being so goddamned cryptic and tell me where the hell she is! Are you enjoying this? It's bad enough you people let me think for the last few months that she was dead, but now you're just jerking my ass around! I knew you were a prick, but this tears it!" Snarling, he took a swipe at Inuyasha, claws passing just inches from the hanyou's face before he leapt back out of the way.

The jingle of a familiar staff rang in his ears, and he turned, panting and enraged, to find the monk and the slayer watching the exchange.

"Ah, Kouga. We were expecting you." The monk's smooth voice calmed his nerves a bit. Outside of the inu-hanyou, these were Kagome's friends. He could restrain himself…mostly.

"Why the fuck does everyone keep saying that?" he growled. The monk's amused chuckle answered.

"You were…close…to Kagome, Kouga. It is only natural that you should wish news of her fate."

_Oh…now we're back to being civilized are we?_

More growls emanated from his chest. "You idiots could have at least sent a messenger…something. Anything! All the news we had said she was either dead or 'gone'. What the hell else were we supposed to think?"

"You have our deep regrets, Kouga. Between our own recoveries and other…circumstances..we didn't even think to send messengers." Miroku motioned to a shaded spot under the trees. "Let us tell you what we can. It will take some…time." He motioned again as neither Inuyasha or Kouga had moved. "Please. Sit." He glared pointedly at Inuyasha. "Both of you, if you please."

Slowly, reluctantly, Kouga relaxed, and still keeping a wary eye on Inuyasha, moved to where the monk indicated, and Miroku began his tale, with Inuyasha and Sango chiming in.

…The world as he knew it changed that afternoon.

* * *

Three years and many more rounds with the mutt later, they had worked out a wary truce. Every month they took it in turns to run circuits through his territory and Inuyasha's, throwing out bandits and eliminating any demon threat. The sharp edge of their relationship still lay between them, the unspoken but permanent knowledge that someday, perhaps in five hundred years of somedays, they would find her again on her side of the well. When that time came…they both knew that their heartbreak warfare would return again in earnest, and one of them would lose when she made her choice.

He continued to deny it would be him, despite the hanyou's knowing smirk.

Turning at the sound of pounding footsteps, he watched Ginta and Hakkaku come up over the rise, panting as they ran.

"Kouga! Come quick!" Still panting, Ginta hobbled up to him, leaning on his shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

"What the hell, you two?" He watched as they sprawled on the grass at his feet, completely spent.

"Messenger…Inuyasha….Sister Kagome….." Hakkaku gasped, looking up.

Kouga wasn't there anymore.

Hakkaku laid his head back against the grass and closed his eyes, determined to wait until his heart stopped trying to break through his ribcage before following his leader. _He's still too gods- be-damned fast._

* * *

_**Don't say a word just come over and lay here with me  
Cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see  
I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe  
There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me**_

His legs weren't as fast as they had been with the Shikon jewels in them. The promise of seeing Kagome again almost made up for the lack. He flew through the forests and plains separating Inuyasha's village and his tribal lands, feet barely even touching the terrain.

He ran straight for the well once he reached the outskirts of the village. Inuyasha had shown him the innocent-looking well after their discussion that day under the trees. He knew it for the access point, the place where she opened the door to another world. How his admiration for her had climbed that day, hearing about that other world, and the bravery that it must have taken to continue coming here after all the dangers that she had faced. If the message was right and she had returned again, he loved her even more.

A lone figure was seated by the well, red and white and dark and beautiful to his eyes; Kagome. _It's her! It's true!_

He skidded to a stop in front of where she was and flashed a cheeky grin. "How's my woman?" he blurted, then scooped her up for a rib-cracking hug. He clung to her, eyes closed, breathing in her scent as her arms flew around his neck, returning the hug…and his hope.

Satisfied with the greeting, he pulled away, holding her out from him as he examined her. She had grown up in three years, her slim beauty's place taken by sleek, feminine curves. Her face was still the same, though the eyes were more guarded than he had remembered them. Still, they shone with tears and she smiled through them. _That's my girl._

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held out a hand and shook her head. "No, Kouga. Let me, please." She pulled away further, and returned to her perch on the lip of the well. She twisted the fabric of her hakama in her palms and her eyes fell to her hands.

"Kouga…you have to understand some things."

He quirked an eyebrow and sat down in a rush, legs crossed under him and face upturned to hers. He pulled her hands away from where she was worrying the fabric and held them in his, as he had so many times. "All right, Kagome. Make it quick before dogshit gets here."

She frowned, perturbed. "Don't..." she hesitated, "don't call him that." Nervously she twitched her fingers in his hand, before finally - and painfully - pulling them away.

"Kouga, you have to understand. I...I love you, I do," she rushed. His heart soared. _Take that, dog-boy!_

"..but I came back here, knowing I may not be able to return to my own time....to be with him." He blinked at her, uncomprehending. "To be with Inuyasha."

He pulled back, eyes wildly searching her face. _It can't...She loves __**me**__.._. He shook his head, the words tumbling from his lips, "No, no, that's not right. I've waited for you for three years..I knew as soon as I met you that you were perfect for me...for my people." He turned from her, head lowered and eyes hooded. "I loved you, all that time.."

She reached for him, hesitating, then pulled her hands back. "I know, Kouga. I've always known. I'm so sorry. I've tried to tell you so many times." The tears were running freely down her cheeks and he could smell their saltiness, ached to wipe them away.

He shook his head again and after a couple of deep breaths could turn back to her, pasting on a vestige of the cocky grin. "Well...that should make dog-breath happy, shouldn't it? The bastard was right all along. Cocky son-of-a-bitch." He huffed a jagged laugh, not at all amused.

"Kouga, Inuyasha didn't.." She stopped when he held out a hand.

"Don't, Kagome. Don't." _Don't say his name, don't twist the knife deeper._ "We knew it would come down to one of us." He grinned, his heart not in it. "I just always thought it would be me."

He stood, flexing his hands and not daring to look her in the eye. "I'll leave you two to it, then." He grasped for the words, but they slipped through his fingers. "Congratulations...have a good life...send word when the brats show up."

He turned his back on her and dug a toe into the earth, preparing for the leap that would take him away from her. He stopped, tilting his head back to her. "It's true, you know. I've loved you since I saw you. Despite everything, despite this....I still will. Just...don't forget me, woman."

He launched himself at the forest, streaking right by the flash of silver and gold that hovered near the treeline.


End file.
